All I Want for Christmas
by Ash Gray Kitsune
Summary: Tifa had forgotten what it was like to not have to stand alone, and to her surprise, the one who chose to stand by her is the one who himself had to fight that very isolation...
1. Chapter 1

**All I Want for Christmas**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the song that named this fic, nor do I own FFVII. I do own Dina and the residents, and trust me, that job will come into play very, very soon.**

**Warnings: A few moments of squick, though they will be brief. This story doesn't have a plot, per se, more of a gradual biography of a world in the grip of a terrible economic, cultural, and societal collapse and a people driven to do nearly anything to get a little of what they had back. There is no World Wide Network; there is no television. Independent business die by the dozens, and even larger corporations are heading straight for the dump. The wealthy are persecuted by the poor, and the poor are battered by the terrible weather. **

**There is no happy ending for a place like this, at least not for many, many years. Think about it; the largest power supply on the planet is inaccessable, while the ones responsible are either dead with the innocent or pulling strings behind the corporations in safety. Banks have failed, because people tried to withdraw all their savings, and jobs failed because there are too many people to work. The ones who do have jobs rarely have the gil to spend, because rent is so high that it's actually cheaper to buy a house. This is not a pleasant future, but it's a necessary one. **

**And that is what I plan to write. Correlations between the Dust Bowl and our current falls are, of course, going into this, as well as the famines, disease, and drought that plague our worldly neighbors. And perhaps, in writing this, we can make a tiny difference or two, here and there. I will also be heavily referencing some green energy and green recycling literature, since that is a large part of the WRO's mission as well...but there will be Christmas joy XD. I'm not going to keep our lovely couples away from one another! Obviously, VinTi is the main one; feel free to pair up the others (though I am keeping Cid and Shera married for the time being). Let me know what you think!**

Tifa sighed a little and rested her head on top of her hands, eyes closing against the harsh lamplight. Two years ago, she would have been staring out over a gorgeous panorama, courtesy of the Sierra's observation deck. Two years ago, she would have had her bar, Marlene and Denzel, and the occasional visits from all of her friends, though Vincent and Yuffie had made it their unofficial mission to visit most. They would come as a pair, Vincent picking her up in the sleek sedan from the local train station and driving them both to Seventh Heaven, where he'd park the car in the garage.

They would alternate spending time with her and with the kids, though often, during the warmer weather, they would all drive out to the soft grasslands and let both children fly kites and picnic, while the three adults indulged themselves in naps and much needed venting. She smiled, very slightly; occassionally Cloud had joined them, when he wasn't running messages and packages in between the WRO and what remained of the Turks. He seemed more at peace now, and Tifa felt thankful that she'd decided, not long before they'd left to defeat Sephiroth, that what she'd been feeling for so many years was a sisterly love, not a romantic one.

Besides, he'd lost a good portion of his empathy when he'd lost the memories of Zack, and when they had lost Aeris. She was grateful to Vincent for that; he'd kept her away from the older woman's body long enough for Cloud and Cid to clean her up. Those were sweet days...until the next great emergancy happened. The only problem was that this time, AVALANCHE, Shin-Ra, and the WRO didn't stand a chance. The economy, fueled for so long by the mako reactors and their cheap power, failed utterly.

Literally millions of people were out of work, and the few who did manage to save their hides were teetering on the brink, terrified to fall. Seventh Heaven had been no different; in a matter of months, Tifa had been foreclosed, because when people couldn't afford to eat, only the truly drunk would spend their money on alcohol, and not on glasses, but on bottles. She had been lucky, or so she told herself; Cid's dreams were completely grounded, though he was working hard to figure out an alternative energy plan with Reeve that did not rely on either fossil fuels or mako.

She was lucky...She lifted her head to stare at the calendar, and wondered idly how long she could do sixteen hour shifts. She was two months in without a day off, and her physical and emotional wellbeing were decidedly worse for the wear. She was twenty-six years old, and she moved like a sixty-year-old. Tifa had lost a great deal of weight, but that wasn't so surprising; she made do with a few slices of bread and a cup of tea, and whatever the gentlemen she cared for had left over at the end of the night.

She worked for a small outbranch of Healin Spa that dealt with the elderly populations swiftly rising. A large portion of her generation, and those just before her, had died out in the Wutai War and from the various attacks on Shin-Ra and the planet respectively, leaving a multitude of orphans, and a terrible dearth of older folks. Most still worked; they had no choice, and it had been terrible to see the exodus out of Edge, Kalm, and Rocket Town to places such as Cosmo Canyon and Gongaga. Junon's folk had created a multitude of small farming villages now that most of the machinery that had created the town was defunct from the lack of power. Costa was utterly deserted, save for the fisherfolk. And she, like all the others, had gone searching for a way to put food in her mouth, and those of the children.

Had it not been for Marlene and Denzel, she would have done what Vincent, Yuffie, and the Turks had taken up, and become a monster mercenary. Barret was putting all of his mining and excavation expertise to work in Gongaga, salvaging as much of the damaged reactor as physically possible. On that continent, they'd managed to set up a decent bartering system; Wutai, used to all of this and still largely out of the main global economy, as well as Mideel and Icicle Inn, were doing the same thing, and Reeve had managed to organize everyone into the same system, creating a new, tentative economy in the old one's place. However, here it was not so easy. Tifa rolled her neck back, wincing as it popped badly, and set to rubbing the sore joints, forcing calm and peace on herself. Gods, she missed them...

Yuffie, Elena and Reno would have been falling all over themselves to cheer everyone up, while Rude cooked, Tseng helped with paperwork, and Vincent...Vincent would have been allowing her the freedom to lean on someone else for a change, allow her to cry, to cuddle into a warm chest. There was nothing awkward about the way he did these things; he simply held out his arms, and she couldn't help but run into them. She had suspected, for a while now, that the man felt something other than mere friendship; there was a deeper emotion in those eyes when he spoke to her, and a warmer inflection that made her body relax in a way that definitely wasn't a simple friendly remark. And truthfully, she felt the same; he was handsome, blindingly intelligent, sweet as an apple pie, and honorable to a fault.

Even though he was far away, just thinking about him made her smile wider, and she brushed her hair out of her face, taking a long, deep breath. He always teased her, albeit very gently, about her 'worrywort syndrome', and how it so often made her the brunt of everyone's problems...but his smile always comforted her. He, alone of everyone she knew, aside from her beloved master, had never once dropped his worries on her head. He had flatly refused, say that she had enough to deal with, and that he was more than old enough to work out a solution on his own. And if he truly couldn't, then he would ask her advice...but he would not beg her to take over.

"You've had to do that enough..." Had been his soft voice, and reluctantly, she had to agree. She was already worn out by all the worrying, all the problems...she couldn't deal with four demons, a murder, and possible parentage of the greatest warrior and madman the world had ever known. She hissed as she pinched a nerve, but leaned back, one hand still working it out. Two more hours, then she'd lose herself in a bed warmed by two youngsters and a few carefully placed heated bricks. Denzel still felt a little uncomfortable, but with winter coming on, even he had to agree that it was either share a bed, or freeze. Tifa couldn't afford to keep the heater on for more than half the night; she always fired it up when she got home, since she usually left by eleven. She hated that fact...but at least Vincent had been sending some gil. That had helped; Marlene's illness had gone away, and Denzel was finally hitting a proper growth spurt.

"I'm a terrible mother..." She muttered, pulling the large book of daily logs across the desk and beginning the long task of noting what had been happening all day long. She sniffed slightly, wishing that her sweaters were just a little thicker; the caretaker's office was always cold, since it faced the north and had the barest of sealing around the windows. There was a cloak lying across the straw-tick bed in the corner; she debated for a moment, then got up carefully, for her feet were half-frozen, and went over to swathe herself in it's thick folds.

It had been a gift from Vincent last Christmas, before he'd gone out with the others, and she relished its fleecy inside, and oiled wool out. Each of the children had gotten one as well, several times larger, so that they could comfortably grow into the garments without worrying about them being too short or too small. She pulled it close, smirking a bit. Her's was the same crimson as his own former cloak, while Denzel's was blue, and Marlene's a cute brown with little pink chocobos on the right chest, and after the hugs and kisses from both girls, he'd sheepishly told them about the bet he'd won off of Yuffie that had earned him enough cold weather gear for himself and them. She still smiled at the thought of how much he had agonized over them...

The end of her shift passed in quiet contemplation and a great many notes, her hand cramping when she heard the sound of the back door opening and familiar footsteps. Dina wasn't too fond of Tifa, and Tifa didn't care much for Dina, but both women had openly acknowledged their respect for one another, and Tifa smiled slightly, lifting her hand in a wave as she closed the book. The older women shared the same rueful smile, and as Tifa clocked herself out, she set her purse down and began to unravel herself from her clothing.

"Good evening, Tifa."

"Evening, Dina. Everyone's quiet tonight; Bruin had a few anger problems when Dori changed his radio station to the evening news, but other than that, no issues."

"Thank the goddess. So, what are your plans for tomorrow?" Tifa cocked her head to the side and must have looked confused, because Dina blinked, surprised. "Didn't they tell you?"

"I don't know. I was supposed to be coming into work, right?"

"Girl, you have the next week off!" Fear, rather than elation, flooded her veins, and she must have looked stricken as well, because the older woman hastened to clarify. "You aren't being let go, dear; a few friends of yours apparently called in and asked when your next day off was, and after being told what you were scheduled, they evidently took it to a higher authority. The next thing I know, we're all being shuttled around..." Tifa felt horrible, and she immediately began to speak.

"Oh, goddess, no, I'll be in tomorrow...!" At that, the woman chuckled, surprising her.

"Dear, you've been two months without a break. You need to go home and rest...and put some meat back on those bones. You're as thin as a rail, and your little ones won't thank you for it later on. Now go; I believe there's a ride outside for you." Utterly dumbfounded, Tifa felt herself be guided to the door, handed her bag, and let out, blinking as she heard the lock click behind her. Glancing around, she caught sight of a very familiar truck, and felt a smile stretch her face as she thought she dimly recognized the particular bobbing red glow from inside the cab. As she jogged lightly over, a tall, sturdy man stepped out of the vehicle, and she caught sight of graying blond hair and those familiar goggles, a pack tucked in the headband. Cid looked thinner, older, and a little sadder...but that didn't stop him from picking her up in a hug the moment she was in range and planting a firm, fatherly kiss on her forehead.

"Young lady, y' jus' abou' scared us half t' death! Git in th' truck and let's git y' fed." She couldn't stop smiling, and shook her head, laughing a little, though she shivered against the cold. There wasn't any snow yet, but by the bite in the air, it wasn't far off. She smiled lightly at the thought of Marlene and Denzel going wild in the white fluff, and settled herself on the torn, duct-taped seats before closing the door.

"Cid, I'm fine, there's food at home..."

"Tha' wha' I'm talkin' abou'! Vincent's cookin' up a storm, an' yer gonna eat!" She laughed out loud at that, and smirked a little as he glared at her. "Wha's so funny?"

"Cid, you know I wouldn't pass up Vincent's cooking! Besides, I'm only this thin because we don't have a lot of money." Her claret eyes sobered, and Tifa made a point of catching his eye briefly. "I mean it. The kids get the most of the food; I get two square meals at work, plus leftovers." He huffed, and sighed, but didn't press the issue. They rode the whole way in a companiable silence, Tifa half-asleep and Cid pensieve. Eventually, though, they made it home, and she stumbled up the stairs to her small apartment with his help, raising her keys to open the door, when it swung inward, a rush of warm air carrying the smell of a variety of tasty things flowing over them both as a dark-clad figure stood over them both. Tifa managed a hazy smile up at Vincent before she fainted dead away, her senses overwhelmed completely...

**Woof. That's the longest I've written in one setting in months. Social commentary for the win!**


	2. Chapter 2

**All I Want for Christmas**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the song that named this fic, nor do I own FFVII. I do own Dina and the residents, and trust me, that job will come into play very, very soon.**

It was the soft sounds of someone walking that woke her, and with a stifled groan, Tifa slowly sat upright, her head spinning as she opened her eyes, then shut them abruptly, swallowing against the nausea. She knew what it was, alright; a form of exposure, brought on by the chill at work. Everyone knew that Cid's truck never worked in the winter, so she hadn't even noticed the symptoms until she'd tried to set foot in her own apartment...and fallen flat on her face, apparently. She automatically reached down to pull her bra strap up; they were always falling down, no matter how many times she tightened them...then felt confused, then slightly alarmed as she realized she was completely naked under the blankets and started as a warm hand brushed over her forehead, someone standing over her.

"You had us worried, Tifa." That familiar, slightly raspy baritone made her fear melt away, and she relaxed into Vincent's touch, cracking one eye open to survey the quiet man. He was bigger than she remembered, his once slender, skeletal body filled out and firm, as muscular as she used to be...his weight settled on the bed, and she sighed again as he drew his arms around her, pulling her tight to his chest. As always, there was a scent of leather and gun oil about him, and she had to smile a tiny bit a the feel of silk against her skin. He was a vain bird, always wearing the best of the best, though it was universally black. No matter...he looked wonderful, and she closed her eyes to the last time she'd looked in a mirror. Lank hair, scrawny, starving body, sagging breasts...oh, she couldn't hold a candle to the man. "Don't you _ever _do that again." He murmured, less angry than upset.

"...I am sorry, Vincent." She replied softly, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning back to look him in the eye. She knew how much he hated that phrase, but she hoped that her sincerity would prove it. She knew she'd been abusing herself; she knew that better than anyone else. Each time, Tifa had justified it, taking a sort of perverse pride in surviving, once again, on the fringes, on absolutely nothing. In a job more abusive and soul-wearying than anything she'd ever done before, in conditions that would make a maggot retch. Her joints ached in ways that she knew had little to do with her martial arts; it was from the bending, lifting...And did she ever get a thank you? No, but she'd learned not to expect one. In fact, she could expect a groping, the occasional old, wrinkly, liver-spotted hand sliding up her thigh, and more than a few propositions. She snorted inwardly; she'd seen so many naked old men in the last year that it would take a great deal for her to feel even a little arousal, and that was about as likely as being able to open her bar again. As her thoughts wound down, Tifa became aware of one long hand threading itself through her hair, taking care to avoid tangling. She'd missed that...

"I know you are." His crimson eyes met her claret, and he nodded, leaning forward to settle his forehead and nose against hers. "But you should have called us; we are your family, Tifa." A tear shimmered over an eyelash, and he sighed a little, moving back to wipe it away. Go figure...Vincent would be the one to make her feel ashamed...

"How did you know? I mean, I thought I'd kept the kids pretty happy..."

"Yuffie. She was doing reconnaissance for one of our contacts here when she spotted you through a window changing. At first, she just ignored it...until you took off your shirt, and she saw your ribs. And your spine. She ran back, reported for the man, then told me that you were starving yourself to put food on the table for the children. We were appalled, Tifa...and we were hurt. We _told_ you, every one of us, that all you had to do was call. We knew how hard it was for you to be mother and breadwinner, especially nowadays, and each of us swore to do our best to help you in any way. But, we didn't want to hurt your pride...and now I see that we were fools. Yuffie was in tears, Tifa; Cloud is still in shock. Barret and Cid were beyond pissed...they still are."

"And you?" He had to smile at her voice, so soft, and worried about what he would say...She held her tears in check, breath baited for his answer.

"I am furious with myself that I did not simply throw you over my shoulder and take each of the children by hand. I will not be making that mistake again." She looked surprised, then suddenly grew upset.

"But, my job...! We can't afford to go without it!"

"Tifa..."

"You don't understand!"

"Tifa..."

"If I can't make rent...!"

"Tifa."

"Vincent, I am serious! I might have been hurting myself, but we can't turn down this kind of income-mmph?" He silenced her with a long kiss, capturing her face in his hands, then pulled away, brushing several long strands of hair out of her eyes, brushing away her tears.

"Tifa, I know that. I wasn't going to ask you to give it up. But I _will_ be staying with you, and working out of this area. Now..." He smirked, very gently, and gave a significant glance to her bosom, nearly free of the confining blankets. "Let's get you tucked back in, before..." She followed his eyes, then blushed immediately and pulled her blankets up higher. Rubbing her face with one hand, Tifa chuckled ruefully, her eyes slightly puffy and red, but glad and tired just the same.

"Why is it that I suspect you wouldn't mind that in the least?" Vincent chuckled, low and deep in his chest, and he pushed her back into the bed, carefully, leaning over her, his eyes dancing with a light she hadn't seen before. It looked...mischievious.

"Because, my dear Miss Lockheart...I wouldn't." He sealed their lips in a kiss, drawing the fingertips of his free hand down the side of her face, caressing her neck, and over the curve of her shoulder, eliciting a delightful shudder from her. He pulled away slowly, leaving her breathless, and somewhere in the back of Tifa's mind, she wondered if he'd go even further...and if she'd welcome those advances so readily as well. "Now, sleep, Tifa. I'll be back in a little while with something to eat." She smiled, then sobered suddenly, realizing what she'd forgotten to ask about.

"Vincent, where are Denzel and Marlene?" He smiled gently, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"They're out with Cloud, Cid, and Barret. It started snowing when you got home, and Barret suggested that they get a head start on building forts. Satisfied?" She smiled, nodding, her eyes growing heavy, and as Vincent moved off her bed, she could have sworn that she'd gotten a glimpse of a yellow orb, glowing faintly from spell casting...

* * *

><p>Tifa was still bedridden, and clearly ill; her weakened body hadn't been able to fight off a particularly exhaustion form of the flu, and Vincent had quarantined her room, forbiding anyone from going inside just yet. He took care of her needs, and helping her to and from her bed; otherwise, he was in her bed, content to let her snuggle close as he read and wrote. He was doing Reeve a favor, and ghost-writing a biography of AVALANCHE, starting with the original group. He was particularly suited to the task; before his death, Vincent had known Fuhito, as the man was one of Hojo's old protege's and just as twisted...and he'd known quite a bit about Elfe, once Felicia Dragoon, Veld Dragoon's daughter. His old partner still lived, apparently, and Vincent had his notes nearby, detailing Shin-Ra's involvement in the many terrorist attacks...as well as a scathing review of the Presidential policies that had had him in stitches. Right now, though...his eyes were on the lady wrapped around his abdomen, and he stroked her hair out of her face.<p>

She was beautiful still, even emaciated as she was, and her dedication to her duty astounded him, quite frankly. Anyone else would have faltered and allowed others to take over..._but then, anyone else would have failed. And I don't think that I'd be nearly as attracted to her then. In fact, I might just hate her for it..._But he did not, and he would not. She was so strong, even as sick and frail as she was physically, and though they hadn't gone much beyond smoldering kisses, he was quite happy to see that she was perfectly content with his affection, and returned it wholeheartedly. He had surprised himself with such a display of emotion; while he had come to terms with the fact that Lucrecia had merely used him as a means to cultivate her insane theories, he still hadn't expected Tifa. Of course, he had to smile at that. His mother would have chided him for discounting a woman of Tifa's incredible talent and love. As she slumbered, he sensed that her illness was fading, and that eased his fears. Her 'grace week', as her supervisor had called it, had been lengthened to an indeterminable time due to her illness, and Vincent was perfectly willing to call again. It was worth her disgruntled glares to see her color improve, her skin to fill out and muscles to grow again.

Two weeks of solid slumber, good food, and rest had done wonders for her, and more than once, Vincent had been tempted to slip into the bed with her...but he held his temptations far off, relying on his good sense rather than his desires. There would be more than enough time for that...though if she did feel up to a little playful petting, he would certainly oblige later on...But for now, he would focus on getting her well enough for Christmas. Three more days, and this small apartment would be overflowing with people, and she wouldn't want to miss such a chance. The kids would be back with the tree anytime, and so he laid his head back, smiling...

"Mm..." He glanced down at her soft voice.

"Good evening..."

"Mmph...no such thing..."

"That depends on what you see." She lifted her head out of his stomach and stretched, her loose, off the shoulder shirt revealing a good deal of breast, and he couldn't help settling it further up, his fingers brushing her warm, silken skin. Despite how sore she looked, though, she pouted at him and made to reach up for a kiss, one hand wrapping around his neck, when she overbalanced and fell, drawing him down on top of her. He grunted, and she smirked up at him.

"Well then, I see a very handsome man laying on top of me." He laughed low, and reached up to tangle his fingers into her hair, brushing his lips over her chin and jawline.

"And I see a beautiful woman beneath me..." He murmured, moving to her lips and laying tiny, perfect little pecks upon them, as she sighed and moved her arms up his back.

"Vincent..."

"Mmhmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"...Christmas with you."

"Just me?"

"Well, with the others, of course...but I wouldn't mind catching you under the mistletoe." She laughed at that, and planted a quick kiss on his nose.

"Don't leave. I don't think I could do this without you." He smiled softly, and drew her close, nuzzling into her neck.

"I don't plan to, my love. I don't plan to.."

**Sensuality and fluff...and an obvious obsession with this pairing. It's all good. Especially on a rainy day.**


End file.
